


I could get lost in this (forgetting what caution is)

by Crimsoncat



Series: Kinktober 2017 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Kinktober 2017, Public Sex, Smut, blackhill - Freeform, smut with feelings, this one got away from me a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimsoncat/pseuds/Crimsoncat
Summary: Natasha and Maria steal a moment for themselves in the middle of Stark's latest fundraiser.





	I could get lost in this (forgetting what caution is)

**Author's Note:**

> This one really just took on a life of it's own. Sexy shenanigans, OTP feels, and Avengers inanity! Oh my!
> 
> I regret nothing.

Kinktober 2017

Day 03. Public

* * *

 

“There you are,” Natasha calls as she opens the balcony door. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

 

Maria turns away from her view of the city to take in the much more stunning view of Natasha Romanoff in her formal wear. The light from inside frames her beautifully as she stands in the doorway, and Maria’s breath catches at the sight of her.

 

Natasha’s dress is a black number that looks quite conservative at first glance. The top, though sleeveless, is a solid piece of fabric. And while it hugs her breasts quite beautifully, there is no skin to be seen; not even a hint of cleavage. It cinches tightly around her waist with a simple ribbon, dark grey to subtly match the colour of Maria’s suit, and the fabric of the skirt lingers along the curve of her hips before draping elegantly to the floor. It is a gorgeous dress to be sure, and until Natasha moves it seems quite tame compared to some of her other gowns.

 

But as Natasha steps onto the balcony and moves towards Maria the illusion shatters. For when Natasha moves the fabric of her skirt parts, revealing two long slits up either side. They stop just a few inches below her waist, almost high enough to reveal the colour of her panties to the world. _Almost_. And it is even more tantalizing than if the slits in Natasha’s skirt had gone all the way to her waist.

 

“I needed some air,” Maria says absently, eyes tracing the curves of Natasha’s legs as the diaphanous material of Natasha’s skirt flutters behind her while she walks.

 

Natasha hums. “Did it help?”

 

“A little bit,” Maria murmurs as Natasha stops in front of her. “Until a few moments ago, at least.”

 

Natasha has been purposefully driving Maria crazy all night, and with the number of paparazzi and reporters at Stark’s latest charity event Maria has been forced to keep her distance. Their relationship is not a secret, per se, but it also isn’t something either of them want plastered across magazine covers or dissected on celebrity gossip shows. So they try to be discrete in public settings; especially at public events so full of members of the media.

 

But that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy torturing one another, and Maria has been at Natasha’s mercy all evening.

 

The way the dress moves when Natasha dances should be illegal, and watching others react to Natasha has put Maria into a jealously possessive kind of mood. Maria wants nothing more than to take Natasha in her arms and kiss her senseless in the middle of the dance floor. Maria wants to kiss Natasha until she is putty in Maria’s hands, and there is absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind that Natasha Romanoff is spoken for. She wants to do that and much worse, and Maria had to get out of there before she forgot exactly _why_ they were so intent on keeping their relationship as private as possible.

 

Natasha steps into Maria’s personal space, resting her head against Maria’s shoulder as Maria wraps her arms around the smaller woman. “You are so incredibly sexy in that suit,” Natasha murmurs. “You’ve been pushing my buttons all night.”

 

Maria chuckles. “I feel your pain, love, believe me. You are..” Maria shakes her head as words fail her.

 

“Who was that woman you were speaking with at the bar?” Natasha asks.

 

Maria blinks, thrown by the sudden change in topic. “What woman?”

 

“The brunette in the backless red dress with cleavage for days,” Natasha prompts, and Maria doesn’t miss the edge in her voice.

 

“Rosa? She works with Pepper. One of SI’s scientists, I think.” Maria shrugs.

 

“She couldn’t keep her hands off of you.” And there is definitely a bit of a growl in Natasha’s words that time.

 

Maria rolls her eyes, and she knows Natasha will hear it in her voice even if she can’t see the movement. “You have had everyone at this party drooling over you since you stepped off the elevator, you don’t have any room to talk.”

 

Natasha scoffs. “I haven’t been laughing with random handsy strangers in dark corners.”

 

“We were at the bar in the middle of the room, and I was trying to be polite,” Maria argues, but even as she says the words she knows it’s useless. So, instead of continuing to debate it, Maria lowers her head so she can speak softly into Natasha’s ear. “The only thing I have been thinking about all night is getting you home so I can pull that dress off of you with my teeth.”

 

Natasha’s quiet gasp makes Maria’s head spin, and she grazes her teeth along the edge of Natasha’s ear just to feel the way she trembles.

 

“And, so help me god, Natasha,” Maria adds, her voice rough as gravel, “if you don’t stop flashing those gorgeous legs at me while you dance I am going to take you in the middle of that dance floor.”

 

Natasha stands frozen in her arms, barely breathing for three heartbeats, before she turns her head to capture Maria’s lips in a searing kiss. Maria moans deeply and she kisses Natasha back just as passionately. They make out like teenagers for a few minutes, sloppy and desperate and out of control, until Maria finally pulls away to catch her breath.

 

“Fucking hell,” Maria groans. “How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

 

“Too long,” Natasha answers, and she pulls Maria in for another kiss.

 

“We’re ruining your lipstick,” Maria mumbles against Natasha’s lips, and Natasha makes a sound of complete and total indifference.

 

“Don’t care.”

 

Maria pulls away a second time, and she takes a step back for good measure. “We should stop.”

 

“Why?” Natasha asks as she tries to step forward and erase the space Maria just put between them.

 

“I’m serious, Nat,” Maria tells her, and she stops Natasha’s advance with a raised hand. “I want you so badly that it hurts, and this isn’t helping. This is the exact opposite of helping.”

 

Natasha exhales with annoyance. “Stop moving away from me, Maria, and I will show you _exactly_ how helpful I can be.”

 

Maria goes still and she studies Natasha carefully. There is impatience and arousal and a ravenous kind of hunger in the curve of Natasha’s spine and the glimmer of her eyes. But Maria doesn’t see any indication that she is anything less than completely serious. Except she _can’t_ be. There is no way in hell Natasha will do what she’s suggesting. Not with more than a dozen reporters barely two rooms away. Maria knows that Natasha is teasing her.

 

(She has to be.)

 

But Maria still steps towards her. She still reaches to cradle Natasha’s face in the palms of her hands, and she tilts Natasha’s head back as she slowly leans towards her. Maria hovers with her lips just a few millimeters away from Natasha’s, giving Natasha more than enough time to stop her. But the only sound Natasha makes is a soft whimper of need, and Maria closes the last bit of distance between them. Maria kisses her deeply, licking into Natasha’s mouth to tease her tongue along Natasha’s, and Natasha grips Maria's forearms tightly as she melts into the kiss.

 

Natasha kisses her back like they aren’t in the middle of a Stark Industries fundraiser, standing on the balcony outside of an event filled with hundreds of people who could plaster this private moment all over the internet before either of them could blink. Natasha kisses her with reckless abandon; like she couldn’t care less who sees them, and Maria groans deeply when it becomes obvious that Natasha has no intention of stopping this.

 

They are eventually forced apart by their need for oxygen, and they rest their foreheads together as they try and catch their breath.

 

“Are you sure?” Maria asks softly.

 

Natasha kisses her again before responding, and she smiles against Maria’s lips. “If I wasn’t do you honestly think you would have gotten this far?”

 

“Point taken,” Maria laughs, and she backs Natasha towards the balcony railing. “But let’s at least make sure someone walking by doesn’t immediately know what we’re doing.”

 

Natasha gives Maria a sly look as she leans against the railing. “You don’t want to be known as the woman who managed to fuck the Black Widow in the middle of one of Stark’s parties?”

 

Maria shakes her head as she turns Natasha around so she’s looking out at the city. Maria steps up behind her, fitting herself tightly against Natasha's back. She gently brushes Natasha’s curls to one side, and Maria dips her head to press a single kiss to Natasha’s bare shoulder before she moves to kiss along Natasha’s neck.

 

“You’d be a legend,” Natasha adds teasingly.

 

Maria hums thoughtfully against Natasha’s skin. “I’d much rather be known as the person Natasha Romanoff chooses to spend the rest of her life with,” Maria murmurs.

 

Natasha groans softly as Maria moves her hands beneath the delicate material of her skirt. “Smooth,” Natasha remarks, “very smooth.”

 

“Why thank you.”

 

Natasha blinks as she actually considers what Maria just said. “Wait. Did you just..” Natasha's words trail away as Maria’s fingers brush against her.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Maria whimpers softly when she discovers that Natasha isn't wearing any underwear.

 

Natasha relaxes back against Maria with a moan as Maria’s fingers tease between her lips. “My underwear was completely soaked within fifteen minutes of you stepping off of the elevator.” Natasha’s voice is a breathless murmur. “I ditched them hours ago.”

 

(Maria’s hips jerk forward at Natasha’s words and she takes a moment to thank every deity she can think of for the incredible woman in her arms.)

 

Maria clears her throat before trying to pick the thread of their conversation back up. “Did I just what?”

 

It takes a moment for Natasha to remember what they were talking about, but she goes still when she does. “It sounded like you might have been asking me something.”

 

Maria smiles. “Breathe,” she teases gently, “I wasn’t.”

 

“Alright,” Natasha murmurs, and she’s surprised by the tinge of disappointment she finds mixed in with her relief. She doesn’t have long to consider it however as Maria begins to roll Natasha’s clit between her sinfully skilled fingers. Natasha leans her head back against Maria’s shoulder with a soft whimper, carefully arching her back to try and press herself against Maria’s hand more firmly.

 

Maria closes her lips around the pulse point in Natasha’s throat, and she presses her teeth against the sensitive spot as she groans in frustration. Maria cannot bite down or suck at Natasha’s skin, which means she will not get to enjoy the very specific gasping moan that Natasha makes when Maria teases this part of her body. Either of those things would leave a very distinctive mark behind that would be impossible to explain away. It would become painfully obvious that Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow and Avenger extraordinaire, had been busy with one of the other party guests. And, much like sharks, the reporters would be able to smell the blood in the water.

 

So to speak.

 

Natasha’s hands tighten on the balcony railing to keep from reaching to tangle her fingers in Maria’s hair as she is wont to do, so she understands Maria’s frustration perfectly. Natasha makes a small sympathetic sound and she absently wonders how bruised her neck is going to be after Maria gets her home and has a chance to go to town on her throat.

 

For now, Maria settles for teasing the tip of her tongue along Natasha’s skin. Maria decides that the sound Natasha makes is a decent consolation prize, and she is just beginning to curl her fingers into Natasha when the smaller woman’s body goes completely rigid in her arms.

 

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Natasha growls, and Maria doesn’t need to ask what the problem is. Natasha’s hearing is more sensitive than her own, and Maria has just enough time to wonder how bad it’s going to be before the balcony door opens behind them.

 

“Hey, sorry to bother you guys, but have either of you seen Sam?” Steve’s voice calls and Maria relaxes just a bit.

 

Of all the people who could have stumbled across them this is probably the best case scenario. Steve isn’t an idiot, but he is also the least likely to immediately realize they’re having sex out on the balcony. Or, at least, if Steve _does_ realize it, he’s probably the only person in the building who will pretend that he doesn’t.

 

Natasha throbs against Maria’s fingers, and Maria swallows her groan. As tense as Natasha may be in that moment, the imminent threat of discovery is **absolutely** turning her on even more. Maria subtly shifts against her as she moves her fingers to slowly rub Natasha’s clit.

 

“I haven’t seen him since dinner,” Maria throws over her shoulder. “Nat?” Maria’s voice is carefully neutral as she pulls Natasha into their exchange.

 

A violent tremor passes through Natasha’s body as Maria carefully moves her fingers a little faster. “Nope,” Natasha manages, though it takes her a moment. “Sorry.”

 

“Alright, thanks anyway.” The sound of the fundraiser disappears as quickly as it came as Steve ducks back inside and closes the door behind him.

 

“You fucking-” Natasha begins with a growl as Maria begins to laugh.

 

But whatever she was about to call Maria is lost in a whimpering moan as Maria wastes no time in returning her fingers to their previous position. Because of the angle, Maria is only able to fuck Natasha with one finger. But as turned on as she is one finger is more than enough. Maria’s palm rubs firmly against Natasha’s clit as she fucks her, and it isn’t long before Natasha is desperately trying to swallow the loud cry that Maria pulls from her as she comes.

 

Maria shudders as Natasha’s rests all of her weight against Maria’s chest. She holds Natasha tightly against her, steadying Natasha with a strong arm around her waist, and Maria waits for Natasha’s body to stop responding to her.

 

“Goddammit,” Natasha murmurs, “why don’t we do this more often?”

 

“Because we’re respectable members of the Avengers?” Maria tries, but Natasha is laughing before Maria is even done speaking. Maria smiles into her hair, completely smitten. “You have the best laugh.”

 

Maria reluctantly pulls her hand out from under Natasha’s skirt, and Natasha turns in Maria’s arms in time to watch Maria pop her finger into her mouth. Natasha can only stare helplessly as Maria sucks Natasha off of her finger before carefully licking the other parts of her hand clean. Maria licks her lips as her now clean, if slightly damp, hand falls to rest on Natasha’s hip.

 

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” Maria murmurs, as if she doesn’t know how much Natasha loves watching Maria clean herself up like that, and _exactly_ what it does to her.

 

Natasha wraps an arm around Maria’s neck and pulls her in for a kiss. Natasha dips her tongue into Maria’s mouth, chasing the taste of herself, and Maria’s grip on her waist becomes tight enough to bruise.

 

Completely lost in Natasha’s kiss, Maria doesn’t immediately notice Natasha’s other hand at her belt. She doesn’t realize what Natasha is doing until her belt and the button of her slacks have both been undone and Natasha’s hand is sliding into her underwear.

 

“Nat,” Maria groans into their kiss, and Natasha nips at Maria’s bottom lip in response.

 

Natasha ignores the hint of warning in Maria’s voice. She knows what Maria is thinking, that this will look like exactly what it is to anyone who happens to glance in their direction. But Natasha is too turned on to care at this point. Natasha _needs_ to feel Maria come, and she has a vague half formed plan that involves simply murdering anyone who catches them. Natasha knows it’s not a good plan. It’s not even a remotely realistic plan. But as her fingers move between Maria’s legs every other thought in her head disappears. All that exists for Natasha in that moment is _Maria_. Maria’s lips against her own, and Maria’s body trembling so sweetly.

 

Maria gasps desperately as Natasha’s fingers sink into her arousal, briefly rubbing through her folds before moving slick fingers to her clit. Maria breaks their kiss with a sound that is dangerously close to a whimper, and her head falls forward to rest against Natasha’s shoulder. Natasha cups the back of Maria’s neck with her hand, holding her protectively as she continues to manipulate Maria’s clit with her fingers.

 

As the motion of Maria’s hips begins to falter Natasha glances to the balcony door. She is surprised to see that the blinds have been closed, and for just a second she wonders if Steve would appreciate being thanked for the gesture or if he would prefer to never speak of it again.

 

Maria’s breaths become a sharp crescendo, yanking Natasha’s mind away from their increased privacy, and she presses her face into Natasha’s throat in an attempt to muffle her cries. Natasha’s grip on the back of Maria’s neck tightens even as her fingers become a blur of motion. Maria almost screams when Natasha puts her Black Widow speed to good use. She _almost_ screams; but she absolutely parts her lips without thinking and bites into the soft skin of Natasha’s throat.

 

Natasha, not expecting the sudden jolt of pain, isn’t as successful muffling the sound she makes as they both come almost simultaneously. Maria’s hips snap forward when Natasha’s surprised gasping cry fills the air around them, and Maria shudders violently as the aftershocks of her orgasm threaten to pull her over the edge a second time.

 

“Sorry,” Maria sighs as she regains enough awareness to realize what she just did. She pulls back to assess the damage and winces. Though not hard enough to break the skin, Maria still bit down _hard_. A bruise is already beginning to form around the imprint of Maria’s teeth.

 

“Don’t you **dare** apologize for that.” Natasha’s voice is a sated murmur that makes Maria smile.

 

Natasha buttons Maria’s slacks and redoes her belt before resting against Maria’s chest with a contented sigh. Maria presses a kiss to Natasha’s temple as she gently rubs Natasha’s back. “I know exactly why we don’t do this more often,” Maria murmurs, and Natasha hums quietly in agreement.

 

It isn’t the threat of getting caught that stops them. It’s the fact that all either of them want to do right now is curl up somewhere together and bask in their post orgasmic bliss, and it simply isn’t an option. They don’t move for a few minutes, neither of them eager to pull away from one another, and Maria's mind drifts to something Natasha said earlier.

 

“Nat?” Maria calls softly.

 

“Hm?” In danger of falling asleep on her feet, the vague hum is the best Natasha can do in that moment.

 

“Earlier. When you thought I might be asking you something.”

 

A cup of Clint Barton’s strongest coffee couldn’t wake Natasha up as quickly as those words do.

 

“Yeah?” Natasha prompts, her tone of voice as even as she can make it.

 

“When I do ask. _When_ .” Maria stresses the word, and Natasha’s heart skips. “I promise there won’t be any doubt about what I’m asking.” Maria gently runs her fingers through Natasha’s hair, scratching her nails against Natasha’s scalp in the process, and Natasha almost misses the question that Maria **does** ask her.

 

“Would that be ok?” Maria’s voice is almost hesitant, almost fearful. She knows that she is crossing an invisible line in the sand, and Natasha can feel how hard Maria’s heart is beating.

 

Natasha considers the woman holding her so carefully. The woman who treats her like she is the most precious thing in the world, always. Even when she’s furious. Even when she wants to throttle Natasha with her bare hands. Natasha considers Maria, and she doesn’t think about what a life spent together might look like. Instead, Natasha tries to imagine what her life might be without Maria in it.

 

“Yes.” Natasha speaks softly and she answers both the question Maria is asking her now, and the question Maria is promising to ask at some point in the future. “Yes, Maria. That would be.. more than ok.”

 

Maria’s lips linger against Natasha’s temple for a moment. “Alright,” she says simply, and she takes a step back.

 

Natasha immediately misses the physical contact and her lips twitch into an annoyed frown as she glances towards the balcony doors. Natasha considers the fact that she is willing to spend the rest of her days with Maria at her side, but she is not willing to kiss Maria in front of a camera. And she finally understands why Clint thinks they are being so ridiculous. “You know what? Fuck this.” Natasha takes Maria’s hand and she pulls her across the balcony.

 

Maria tries to let go of Natasha’s hand when Natasha pulls the balcony door open, but Natasha simply tightens her fingers around Maria's. Maria gives her a bemused look, but she adjusts her grip to hold Natasha’s hand more fully and she lets Natasha pull her into the building without complaint.

 

“Tasha. Maria.” Clint smirks knowingly at them as they walk by and Natasha flips him off without even slowing down.

 

Natasha leads Maria towards the tables that ring the edge of the area that has turned into the dance floor, and she stops beside a table where some of the others from the extended Avengers family are sitting and laughing amongst themselves.

 

“We were wondering how long you were going to be,” Sam laughs as Maria sits in one of the empty chairs.

 

“What the hell were you two even _doing_ out there for that long?” Tony demands.

 

Natasha turns to Pepper with a look of utmost sympathy. “You poor thing.”

 

The rest of the table explodes with laughter as Tony sputters indignantly, and Natasha settles across Maria’s lap like there isn’t a reporter taking pictures of their group from across the room. Natasha drapes her arm around Maria's neck and Maria absently rubs Natasha’s leg as they laugh with their friends. One by one the others trickle away until eventually it’s just Natasha and Maria sitting at their table.

 

Natasha leans against Maria’s chest and makes a sound of contentment when Maria wraps her arms around Natasha more tightly. “I didn’t want to spend another four hours not touching you,” Natasha says softly. “Though I probably should have asked if you’d be ok with this..”

 

Maria chuckles. “Are you kidding? Have you _seen_ the hickey on your neck? I’m about to become known as the woman who fucked the Black Widow at one of Stark’s parties. I’m going to be a legend.” Maria laughs loudly as Natasha elbows her in the side.

 

“You’re not funny,” Natasha mutters.

 

Maria kisses her cheek. “I’m hilarious,” Maria says softly. “Besides, I don’t think we need to be that worried.” Maria nods across the room and Natasha turns to see what she’s smiling about.

 

On the other side of the room Clint casually approaches a cluster of reporters snapping pictures of Natasha and Maria. It makes Clint’s heart soar to see Natasha and Maria finally relaxing together in public, and the thought of these vultures ruining it for the two of them makes Clint want to reach for his bow and arrows. But since murdering a dozen or so members of the media is _probably_ not the best solution, Clint opts for plan B.

 

As soon as the reporters notice him they turn eagerly, hoping to get Clint to answer some questions about Natasha’s rather sudden and unexpected romantic entanglement. Clint smiles pleasantly and waits for them to stop speaking over one another. The possibility of getting some kind of solid answers from the man known to be the Black Widow’s best friend (and perhaps lover, some still insist) makes them giddy with excitement. Clint makes a mental note that they _really_ need to stop allowing reporters into these events while he waits for them to calm down. It takes a few minutes, and Clint’s smile is a bit forced by the time they finally all stop talking.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m not actually here to answer any questions,” Clint begins apologetically, “I just wanted to make sure you all signed your waivers.”

 

The reporters glance between one another in confusion, and Clint sighs dramatically.

 

“We have a new guy on front security and he keeps forgetting about the waivers. Ugh, I’m sorry, one second.” Clint pulls out his phone and taps at his screen a few times. “I’m sure if we just do a quick verbal agreement to the waiver it’ll be fine.”

 

“Waiver for _what_?” One of the reporters finally demands impatiently.

 

Clint frowns. “What do you mean for what? You’re taking pictures of the Black Widow. While she’s trying to enjoy a private moment! Obviously she’s going to track every single one of you down, and we can’t be held responsible for that shit. If you’re going to do something _this_ idiotic it’s not the Avengers’ problem.”

 

The glances the cluster of reporters exchange is much more panicked this time.

 

“Bullshit,” the same reporter insists loudly. “She can’t do that.”

 

Clint laughs. “You try telling her that when she finds you. Let me know if it works out.”

 

“But she’s a _superhero_ ,” another reporter protests.

 

“Ehhhh..” Clint holds out his hand and wobbles it back and forth. “The line kind of blurs with Tasha when you start fucking with her and the people she cares about. Kind of like you’re doing. Right now.”

 

Half of the reporters glance nervously across the room, and they jump when they find both women watching them with great interest.

 

“So if we just deleted the pictures we would be ok?” Someone asks meekly.

 

Clint pretends to consider it. “You know, to be safe? I’d probably just leave your devices here. The Widow isn’t big on trust.”

 

It takes another few minutes, but eventually Clint leads the reporters over to Natasha and Maria’s table. Natasha’s eyes flash dangerously as they approach, and Clint winks at her before turning to face the reporters.

 

“Just on the table here, if you don’t mind.” He gestures to the table and the reporters slowly begin to unload all of their recording devices. Natasha and Maria watch with blank faces until the last reporter backs away. There are dozens of electronics on the table by the time they’re done, and the reporters fidget nervously.

 

Natasha turns to Clint with a raised eyebrow and he gives a subtle shake of his head.

 

“Will we be getting these back at some point?” A young man demands, and Natasha turns her cool gaze towards him. He shrinks back. “I just mean when you’re done cleaning them out, Ms. Widow, Ma’am.”

 

Maria presses her face into Natasha’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to hide her laughter and Natasha pinches the back of Maria’s neck as she fights to keep a straight face.

 

Clint smacks his palm against his forehead. “I’m sorry, yeah, of course you will. I’ll just grab some paper and a pen so you can write down your name and address and Tasha will be sure to deliver it to you personally.”

 

Natasha smiles, and there is nothing friendly to be found in the display of her teeth or the glimmer of her moss green eyes. “Oh, yes,” Natasha agrees. “I’d be _happy_ to.”

 

“Uh. You know what? I’ll just claim it as a business expense. I was due for some upgrades anyway,” the man is quick to backtrack. “Actually. It’s getting late. I’m just going to..” he does a strange sort of bow in Natasha’s direction before booking it towards the exit, and the others are quick to follow him.

 

Maria throws her head back and laughs loudly once they have all left, and Clint grins happily. “You’re welcome,” he singsongs.

 

Natasha eyes the collection of electronics on the table. “What the hell am I supposed to do with all this?”

 

Clint shrugs. “Fuck if I know. But if a single picture of you guys pops up anywhere I’ll eat my hat.”

 

“You don’t wear a hat,” Natasha scoffs.

 

“I’ll buy a hat and _then_ I’ll eat it,” Clint amends.

 

Natasha hums in consideration, and she turns to Maria. “Are you done?”

 

Maria wipes at her eyes as she tries to rein in her laughter. “Yes, Ms. Widow, Ma’am,” Maria says seriously. And she lasts almost twenty seconds before she dissolves into laughter once more.

 


End file.
